Whenever I can see the end,
The only thing that matters
Seams to be a passing flame,
'Cause I'm beneath the waters...

The river of reality above,
Is flowing through my mind,
And all the things that happened
Are now so fear to find...

Some careless, little features
That dawned in dust and flavor
Of emptiness and darkness
Stole the peace of temper.

The primal sense of past
It was to have a continence
The first layer of dust
Exists to skip the garbage.

The future leads to dreamers
And plans that maybe'll happen
But we'll forget the trembles
If something changes into better.